Of Nobles and Pirates
by SpazzyRussian
Summary: Francine does not wish to live out her life as a noble like her friends and family will. She wants a bit of excitement in her life! But be careful what you wish for...  Fem!France x Pirate!England.
1. May I Have This Dance?

Of Nobles and Pirates

Pairing: Fem!France x Pirate!England

Author's Note: Please note that this is set in old times. No electricity, no internet, no nothing. Think noblemen and fancy pirates. This probably won't have much historical accuracy, so if I make any errors, historically or grammatically, please let me know. I hope you enjoy.

Rating: T

Number of Words: 1717

Summary: Francine is getting bored of her life as a noble. You live for the name, you marry for the name, you even have kids for the name. And then you die for the name. She doesn't want to live out the life her friends and family will—she wants some excitement in her life for once. But be careful what you wish for...

Chapter One

Pulling away gently, Francine bade the elderly nobleman she had been dancing with a good night and went off to join her friends on the wall. Her good looks, French accent and irresistible lure had kept her on her feet all night, dancing with various noblemen. She couldn't deny that they did their best to be polite, but they were all so..._boring._

An English prince had just been named heir to the throne, and to celebrate, the monarchs had invited dignitaries from countries around the world. In the middle of the ballroom floor, the missionary from Greece bowed low to a kimono-clad girl sent from Japan. The Southern Korean was busy leering at the man from Hong Kong, and an Austrian noble had long ago given up dancing so he could show off his musical skill on the large grand piano showcased there. The two Italian sisters were jabbering at each other in their native language, appearing to be arguing in a somewhat loving way.

She slumped into a chair against the ornate wallpaper, right next to her best friend, Elizabeta _.

"Augh. I know we're supposed to be _ladies_ and all, but it's so _hard_ to," Francine whined. "My feet are killing me. These heels aren't helping, either."

Elizabeta smacked her upper arm. "Don't slouch, Frannie! What if your mom sees?" she whispered hotly, gesticulating to a middle-aged French woman across the room.

"_Putain_," Francine muttered.

Elizabeta merely rolled her eyes and giggled at the use of profanity.

As Francine picked herself up, she noticed something a bit...interesting across the room. Her younger sister, Madison, had actually come out of her hermit crab and was chatting animatedly with a large-chested Ukrainian girl. Francine smiled. At least little Maddie might not be so bored nor lonely in this room full of politics and polite insults.

As the two friends began to idly chat about absolutely nothing at all, yet another man came up to ask for a dance. This one was different, however. A face covered his upper face so you could not see his eyes, and he seemed to have a nasty smirk permanently etched onto his otherwise pleasant features.

As he approached, Elizabeta stiffened. "Frannie, you can't turn this one down," she muttered.

"Why ever not?" Francine whispered back.

"He's the noble from Turkey. He's a prince himself, and he's _way_ too powerful to piss off," she whispered back. "His name is Sadiq. Step lightly."

By then, the man had reached where the two young women were sitting and offered his hand to Francine as he spoke.

"May I have this dance?" he said in a low, sultry voice, his deep accent evident.

Francine hestitantly smiled and took the offered hand. "Indeed you may," she said as lightly as she could. She was getting some seriously bad vibes from this guy, and she did _not_ want to dance with him. But what could one do?

She was stiff and unresponsive as Sadiq swept her onto the floor, and the band struck up a waltz. At least he knew every step, and handled her delicately and politely. But that smirk did not go away, nor the poorly disguised innuendoes in his speech whenever he whispered something into her ear.

She shivered and felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up when he did that. The feeling of his hot breath whooshing over her skin was unpleasant, and she was starting to feel almost violated by dancing with him.

The waltz seemed to go on for eternity, and she almost let out a sigh of relief when the song finished. From across the dance floor, she could see the Greek burning a hole in the back of her Turkish dancing partner's back with his gaze.

"May I have another dance?" Sadiq inquired, leaning over Francine's hand and kissing it. Francine shivered. How the heck was she supposed to decline him? Liz said he was super-powerful, didn't she? But how was Francine supposed to survive another dance with this man?

She looked around the room for a way out. Then she saw her mother beckoning to her from across the room. She smiled at Sadiq and informed him that although she'd love to, she could not.

"Another time, then," Sadiq smiled creepily and finally released her.

Francine had to resist the urge to run away from him as fast as she could, and settled for a brisk pace to where her mother way sitting.

"_Maman_," she bent over to kiss her mother's rosy cheek. "Do you need something?"

The elder woman did not smile. "I saw you dancing with that prince." Francine winced, knowing what was coming next. "Keep that kind of thing up and maybe you'll have a husband. Then you'll finally be out of my hair." her mother said, somewhat nastily.

Francine did not bother to conceal her shudder. To spend the rest of her life with a man like that would be her own personal hell.

She didn't even bothering to argue with her mother. To argue in a public place would be eternal embarassment for her mother, and shame for her. She simply nodded and went off to find Elizabeta.

Liz had found a seat near the piano, and was making goo-goo eyes at the Austrian pianist, Roderich.

Francine clucked her tongue as she walked up to her best friend. She really had to set those two up. She sighed. Her mother had a point, though. If she didn't play matchmaker all the time, she might actually meet a nice man who owned a lot of land and have five kids and live peacefully in the countryside and love each other forever. NOT. Francine snorted, caught in her own ridiculous fantasy.

"Liz, you won't _believe_ the shit I just went through," she muttered as she distracted her friend from the pianist.

Liz shook her head, curls bouncing. "Then I won't," she giggled. "But that was seriously creepy looking."

Francine nodded. "I want an interesting man, but not _that_ kind of interesting."

They both jumped a little as the large grandfather clock chimed out to the room of people that it was already midnight.

A boy with large eyebrows and a blue blouse stood up from his throne in front of the room. "Thank you for coming, everybody!" he said loudly and cheerfully. "I'm Peter, the prince who was named heir tonight. I want to thank everybody for coming..."

As he launched into his thank-you speech, Francine put her head next to Elizabeta's. "Don't they look a little old to have a son that young?" she whispered as quietly as she could, pointing to the monarchs.

Liz frowned. "You mean you didn't know? He's the younger son. The elder was kidnapped by pirates a very long time ago. He would be about our age, actually. He was supposed to be the heir, but...they never received a ransom note."

Francine felt a sudden loss for the young man that she never had the chance to meet. Maybe he would have been interesting, or al least intellectual.

"...and have a good night, and get home safely!" the young prince finished.

The murmur of many voices overlapping grew deafening as everybody began to file out. Francine grabbed Madison by the upper arm and went to go find their mother.

As they were in the carriage heading back to the upperclass boarding house many of the nobles were staying at, Francine began to daydream. What would the crown prince have been like, had he not been kidnapped long ago? Certainly tall and blond, like both his parents. Hopefully he wouldn't have had his younger brother's horrendous caterpillar-like eyebrows.

Apparently she had dozed off, because her mother had to shake her awake when they reached the boarding house.

She blearily climbed the stairs to their suite, remembering only to pick up her skirts when she almost fell flat on her face. Madison helped her undo the complicated dress that formal wear dictated, and they both pulled on simple cotton nightgowns. Even in their sleep, the sisters' clothing flattered their thin frames.

"Good..." Francine yawned. "Night, Maddie."

Madison smiled as her older sister flopped in an undignified manner into the bed next to hers.

They both quickly fell into a world of dreams.

Francine dreamt of a boy she never met. Piercing green eyes gazed at her, seeming to look right through her very being. The boy—man, she corrected herself—analyzed her every movement, and seemed to move in sync with her. Sandy blond hair that needed a haircut, badly, formed a halo around his head. Monstrous eyebrows were just barely ignorable. She didn't move a single centimeter. He reached out and put his palm on her cheek, and began to lean in, his eyes half-lidded...

Madison had an even stranger dream. She dreamt that she was in a pub. A really shitty one. Drunk men leaned over the counter, some passed out, others still chugging. The dream was strangely lifelike in the sense that she could smell the pub's interior; a mixture of alcohol, bodily fluids, and overall grime. But something in the back drew her attention. She gently floated across the floorboards, ignored by all the dream-people. An albino boy about her sister's age lounged in a seat. Dressed in a flowing white shirt, tight black pants, knee-high boots, his clothes seemed quite expensive. A gold earring was looped through the top of one ear, the lobe of the other. He flashed her a cocky grin.

"Well, what are ya doin'? Sit down girlie, the awesome me ain't gonna bite!" he cackled, his amazing red eyes giving her the once-over.

Madison shivered and felt a ripple pass through her body. She had never met anyone like this boy before. She sat down.

When both sisters awoke, they expected it to be late morning, with the scents of breakfast permeating the room, their bags packed and ready by the high class maids at the boardinghouse.

Instead, they were greeted by the sharp small of smoke and blood.

The town was under siege; the pirates had come to visit.


	2. Kidnapped!

Of Nobles and Pirates

Pairing: Fem!France x Pirate!England. Side pairings of Spamano, PruCan, and GerIta. All Fem. I'm sorry, I couldn't resist that "damsel in distress/kidnapped noblewomen" thing. I originally had Canada down as France's brother, but then I realized with the way I wanted the story to swing, it wouldn't work. I'm sorry. You'll see what I mean.

Author's Note/Warning: There will be a lot of inappropriate things in this chapter. If you can't stand the concept of people killing others for profit, or mild molestation and kidnapping or cursing, I suggest you don't read. I'm going to keep to the T rating though. For now.

Rating: T

Please let me know if the rating should be bumped up by the end of this chapter. I won't be sure unless someone tells me.

Number of Words: 2602

Summary: Francine is getting bored of her life as a noble. You live for the name, you marry for the name, you even have kids for the name. And then you die for the name. She doesn't want to live out the life her friends and family will—she wants some excitement in her life for once. But be careful what you wish for...

Chapter Two

Francine threw back the covers and raced to the window, her sister not far behind her. As far as they could see, fires erupted on various rooftops, illuminating the dark night. People raced through the streets, desperate to get away from the men who plundering their homes.

Francine turned to Maddie. "Quick. Put some valuables into a bag and run. I'll do the same. Don't worry about our things." They began to rush about, throwing things into small rucksacks and throwing the bags over their shoulders. They raced to the stairs, but stopped when they saw what was happening down there.

A maid lay in a pool of her own blood, long dead. Several men and women suffered similar deaths, all from long cuts across their stomachs, revealing their insides to the world. Francine retched, and held a hand to her mouth and dragged Maddie down. Maddie shouldn't have to see something like that.

"They're blocking our only escape route," she muttered to her sibling.

"How are we going to—" Maddie stopped as they heard a chair scrape back loudly.

"I don't care!" a polished British accent shouted. "I just want the goddamn riches of the place. Take whatever women you want, I really don't give a damn." Francine caught sight of a hand rubbing the back of a neck, obscured by a mess of sandy blond hair.

Men cheered at this announcement and began to spread throughout the building. The two French sisters got up quickly and began to run down the hallway. They locked themselves in a random room with the door slightly ajar. In the corner, the two Italian sisters from earlier that evening clung to each other in a corner and whimpered.

Francine and Madison ran over to them and grabbed them by the hands. "Please get up," they begged. "We have to leave, we have to leave now!" they began to drag them to the window, hoping that they could rappel down from the balcony to the street below.

They stopped dead in their tracks at a long, low whistle. Two men stood in the doorway. A Spaniard with dark green eyes and curly brown hair walked in, an albino man with a very fancy tricorn hat right after him. Francine heard her sister take a surprised breath when the latter man walked in.

"The awesome me is here to kidnap your pretty arses, now get over here!" The albino stated loudly.

"Now, now, Gil. We have to be nice and...what was the word Arthur used? Gentlemanly?" the Spaniard seemed to be lost deep in thought.

"Fuck gentlemanlyness, or whatever." Gilbert snorted. "Come on, Antonio, don't be a pushover."

He proceeded to grab Madison by the waist and lifted her over his shoulder, fire-man style. Madison began to scream, panicking.

Francine began to pound on the tall albino's chest. "Put her down right now, you filthy pirate! Get your hands off of her!"

Gilbert whistled. "Ohh, we got a live one! We might need the captain for _her_."

Antonio sighed. "Don't call me a pushover, Gil. _You know how angry that makes me..._" his previously light, happy expression vanished, replaced by a dark aura that frightened everyone except Gilbert.

The Spanish pirate grabbed the darker of the Italian twins, lifting her up as Gil had done to Madison. He stormed out the door, the Italian over his shoulder kicking and screaming all the way. Her sister cowered in the corner.

"Hey Luddy!" Gilbert called out to someone they couldn't see. A tall man with large blue eyes and severely slicked back hair leaned into the doorway.

"Yeah?"

"We got one more girl up for keepers, unless you wanna abandon her here. Tonio already took her sister. Plus we need the Cap'n, this one's gonna be difficult." the albino pirate gestured to the still-attacking Francine.

Ludwig sighed and gently helped the little Italian stand up. "Come on," he muttered. "Let's get you out of here." He gently lifted her up onto her feet and escorted her out, murmuring consolations.

Francine was starting to get out of breath. She never really had to do much physical exertion, so her blows were completely ineffective. Smirking, Gilbert grabbed her by the upper arm and began to drag her out. Maddie had already passed out from fear and was dangling over his shoulder.

Boots clomped down the hallway. Thinking they were military boots, Francine tore free from Gilbert and raced into the hallway.

"Help!" she screamed. "Help, a pirate kidnapped my—"

She knocked into someone taller than her standing outside the room and fell over.

"What is this? Gilbert, why did you send Ludwig for me?" an annoyed British accent inquired.

Francine froze. Oh dear. She began to look up, very slowly.

Shiny black boots that went to the knee still had blood spattered on them, and their owner tapped his foot impatiently. Tight black pants were almost obscured by a calf-length coat that was violently red, adorned by golden epaulettes and black cuffs with gold inlay. Black leather gloves concealed hands that were propped on his hips. A white scarf was looped around his neck, and as Francine met his eyes, she withheld a gasp. Eyes so green that she had only seen in a dream met her own cornflower blue ones, and a tangled mess of sandy blond hair went in every which direction underneath a black tricorn hat with more golden embroidery and a large white feather. As fancy as a pirate he may be, this was the young man from her dream.

"We figured you'd be bored on our journey, _Captain Kirkland_," Gilbert said mockingly. "We've found a source of..._entertainment_...for you."

Francine was frozen to the floor in shock. They...they wouldn't. Would they? They were pirates, and it was pirates who were pillaging the city at this very instant.

The blond pirate sighed. "Very well. I'll humor you." the pirate picked Francine up in a manner that none of the other pirates had—one might call it a princess lift.

She sputtered. "Put me down, _rosbif_! Unhand me! I'm a noblewoman, and I will not—"

The pirate laughed. "Oh, a noblewoman, are you? I've dealt with your kind, missy, and I know how to handle _nobles_." The last word he said scathingly, his voice lacerated with scorn and disgust.

But for all his demeaning tone, he handled her gently, all the way down the stairs. Once they left the building however, and the other pirates appeared, it vanished, and he slung her over his shoulder as the others had done.

"C'p'n!" a tall man with very scary blue eyes ran up to them. "W're r'dy to l've dock."

"Excellent," Francine could feel the rumble of the pirate's voice reverberating through his chest.

As he walked up the docking plank to the large, tri-masted ship, Francine snapped out of her shock and began to curse him out in words she had only heard on the streets.

"_Putain! Rosbif! _Let me go, you son of a bitch! Put me DOWN, goddamn you!" she screamed.

The captain chuckled. "I think not. No matter how much I may deny it to my crew members, I have indeed been bored."

He stood at the bow of the ship to face his crew members. "Get ready to sail, men! We're leaving!"

As the men cheered and pulled the boat out of the dock, the captain clambered below deck, Francine still over his shoulder.

He kicked open the door to a vast captain's quarters and threw her down on the bed there. Shoving his knee between her skirted legs, he pinned her arms above her head. One hand stayed above her head with her hands, but the other ripped at her collar, exposing her neck and ripping the fabric of the delicate nightgown. He shoved his mouth onto hers in a (desperate?) kiss. If two mouths ramming together and teeth clashing was what you could call a kiss.

"No!" she screamed. "NO!" She kicked and scrambled, but the pirate was so much stronger than her that her efforts were wasted. While she was screaming, the pirate took the advantage and slipped his tongue into her mouth, effectively silencing her. That was, at least until she bit down on his tongue.

"Ow! Bitch, what was that for?" he sprung back. "You bit me!"

As he scrambled back, Francine clutched at her ripped collar and leaned over, hiccuping. She bit her lip to hold in a sob. She would not allow him to see her cry, but she didn't want to be raped, either.

The pirate ran his hands through his already messy hair and sighed. "Look. Look, I'm sorry. I'll...I'll try to be a gentleman."

Francine ran the back of her hand across her eyes to wipe away her tears. "Truly?"

"Truly." he confirmed, and took off his long red jacket. He draped the garment over her shoulders, concealing her ripped nightgown. "Since I've promised to be polite...I'm Arthur Kirkland, the captain of this ship. You are?"

Francine sniffled and wiped her eyes again. "Francine of Bonnefoy."

Arthur's large eyebrows rose in suprise. _This_ was Francine of Bonnefoy? It couldn't be! But it had been so long since he had last seen her...they were very young. She had probably forgotten long ago, and it should stay that way.

Doing his best to quickly mask his shock, he gently smiled and kissed the back of her hand, tasting the salt of her tears on his lips. "A pleasure, Ms. Bonnefoy."

~*~*~*Maddie's POV~*~*~*

With every step the albino pirate took, his bony shoulder drove into Maddie's stomach, knocking the wind out of her. Of course she didn't even bother fighting, really. After a while, the motion lulled her into a sense of calm and rhythm. Perhaps life with a pirate would be nice. Of course it wouldn't be, she knew, but better than the life she knew was planned for her.

Her mother was close friends with the queen, and earlier that evening, Maddie had located her mother so she could ask her if it were alright if she talked with the Ukrainian noble. However, seeing that her mother was talking with the queen, she stayed a respectful distance until they finished. That didn't mean she couldn't hear them though.

"I completely agree!" her mother said happily. "Madison would make the perfect bride for Peter."

"Not until he is a bit older of course," the queen added. "But an alliance between countries through the marriage of two very powerful nobles would be excellent."

Maddie was a practiced attender of court, and she knew how to keep a perfect poker face. It didn't mean she didn't feel like puking up her light dinner, though. Getting married to a kid less than half her age? On top of that, no matter what polite facade he put up, Maddie knew Peter was a brat. She had seen the boy pitching a fit in a small hallway off of the ballroom right before dinner. And it was over something as silly as the concluding sentence to his speech, too. He wanted his own country as a coronation present, as wanted to state as much in his speech. A _country._

She was snapped out of her reverie as the albino pirate walked up the boarding plank to the ship. The slight bobbing up and down of the ship combined with his brisk pace made Maddie slightly naseous, and she clapped a hand to her mouth and pounded on the man's back to let him know something was wrong.

He leaned against the rail as they took off and removed her from his shoulder, but didn't let her go. His arm was in the crook of her knee, and he was eye level with her trim waist concealed only by a thin layer of cotton.

"Is something wrong, Birdie?" he asked, eyebrows furrowing.

In response, Maddie clapped her other hand to her mouth and began to turn a faint green.

Thankfully, he knew what was wrong and held her quickly over the side of the ship before she puked all over him.

He rubbed her back in soothing circles as she retched.

"...s-sorry..." she croaked when she was done. He smiled.

"No problemo. The awesome me would never leave a girl in distress while she was upchucking her dinner over the side of my awesome ship..."

_But for all that talk of awesome and his random acts of kindness, he kidnapped me..._ Maddie reminded herself.

"I _will_ expect some payback somehow, though...in whatever form it takes." he continued, wiggling his eyebrows. "I'm Gilbert, by the way."

Maddie paled, wondering what kind of "payback" he wanted. "I-I'm Madison..."

"Sweet!" he grinned. "Can I call you Maddie?"

She nodded in response, her throat still dry.

Gilbert seemed to be deep in thought for a moment. "Can you cook?"

Maddie was a little surprised at the almost random question, but nodded a confirmation anyways.

"Awesome!" he proclaimed. "Our captain can't cook for _crap_ and everyone else just makes what they want. What can you make me? I'm starving!"

Maddie was a little befuddled at Gilbert's carefree attitude for all that he was a pirate, but she let him escort her to the kitchen.

He sat down at the long table in the mess hall and watched her as she scoured the cabinets for ingredients. It may have been a pirate ship, but it seemed less like something they raided places with and more like a house on the water.

As she began to beat the batter and greased the pan, she felt arms wrap around her waist and a body press up against hers from behind. She was frozen, not quite sure what to do when gentle lips applied themselves to her neck and began to work their way downwards. Once they reached her collar though, she defrosted and smacked one of the hands with the spatula she was holding. Results were immediate, and Gilbert let her go.

"Ow, Birdie!" he pouted, cradling his hand. "That actually kind of hurt."

Maddie frowned and pointed the spatula at him like a sword. "If you want food, get out. And don't touch me."

The albino pouted and waited a while longer before Maddie came back out a bit later with a stack of pancakes: one for Gilbert and one for herself.

Without even a words of thanks, the pirate practically buried his face in the plate and finished it faster than you could say "flapjack."

"Mmm..." he moaned in satisfaction. "That was _awesome_."

Maddie smiled as she finished off her own stack. "I'm glad you thought so. Hopefully that will be my repayment?" _That I shouldn't have to pay back, since you're the one who kidnapped me_, she added silently.

Gilbert was silent for a couple of seconds, and then split his face into a grin. "As long as you keep making them!"

Maddie sighed. So this would be her life; catering to a pirate. Oh dear.

**A/N: Ooooh~ Mystery! Just how does Arthur know Francine? Why is he so nice to her? Why is Gilbert so awesome to Maddie?**

**Tune in next chapter for the Italian twins' POV's and more...**


	3. The Truth is Not Always Obvious

Of Nobles and Pirates

Pairing: Fem!France x Pirate!England. Side pairings of Spamano, PruCan, and GerIta. Ignore last chapter's remark in this section.

Author's Note/Warning: I'm so sorry an update took so long...I'm just not feeling the urge to write as much as I did. I'll try, I'll really try, but school and life drama are all-consuming.

Rating: T

Please let me know if the rating should be bumped up by the end of this chapter. I won't be sure unless someone tells me.

Number of Words:

Summary: Francine is getting bored of her life as a noble. You live for the name, you marry for the name, you even have kids for the name. And then you die for the name. She doesn't want to live out the life her friends and family will—she wants some excitement in her life for once. But be careful what you wish for...

Chapter Three

Antonio raced down the streets full of screaming people. In the panic, buildings were burning, stores were looted, and society went haywire. His obviously pirate-like garb parted the crowd before him likes Moses in the Red Sea.

Minutes before, everything had been going well. His temper inflamed by his amigo and comrade, Gilbert, he had swung the little Italian noble over his shoulder and walked out. The girl had been a real wildcat, kicking and screaming, pounding her fists against his back. Her more docile sister had been led away by a slightly reluctant Ludwig. Antonio, being in a slightly daredevilish mood, had walked right down the main avenue. Ignoring the loud protests and violent warnings the Italian had issued, Antonio had simply hummed and tuned it out. That is, until she had bit down on his ear. Hard.

In shock and pain, he had let the girl roll off his shoulder as his ear began to bleed.

Picking up her skirts, the noblewoman dashed into a juncture alleyway with surprising speed.

"_Mierda_," Antonio cursed.

The band of pirates he worked with hadn't come alone; Captain Kirkland had promised several other captains loot if they helped him raid. They had picked the perfect time to arrive; the new prince's party for being named heir to the throne had been that evening, and with celebration in the air and liquor on hand, security was lax.

If he wasn't careful, though, Antonio's little Italian would get away or some other pirate would grab her. Jumping over debris against the buildings, he raced after her into the dark sidestreet.

He picked up the pace as he heard the sounds of struggle up ahead. Several rough-looking men that he recognized from the other crews were gathered in a circle around the Italian. Leering at her, they offered to buy her drinks, get her new clothes, and other things, dirtier things, that just hearing made Antonio's blood boil with rage.

She had been slowly backed up until she was cornered against the brick wall behind her. Clutching her arms tightly to her chest, her eyes screwed shut in fear, Antonio's heart went out to her.

"Y-you bastards," she muttered. "You better stay away, or I'll, I'll..." her voice trailed off into uncertainty.

"Or you'll what, pretty girl?" one ruffian sneered. He pulled out a blade and began to clean underneath his fingernails with it. The predatory men began to close in, and Antonio felt his rage returning.

"Or she'll get ME." his cutlass whistled as he pulled it out of its scabbard. Swinging it back and forth to flex the blade, he stepped further into the alleyway clearing.

"Sorry, buddy," one pirate snarled. "We were here first." He yanked the noblewoman forward by the collar of her nightgown to prove his point.

She yelped as the thin nightgown ripped, and crossed her arms over the torn fabric. The group gaped in shock. "What are you looking at, you bastards?" the noble shouted.

"Y...yer not a woman!" one particularly bright one called out.

Antonio took the chance he was given to slide his sword through the speakers' ribs. Pulling it out with a slick squelching noise, he grinned maniacally as the others rushed him. Twirling and jumping, slashing and stabbing, he danced his way through the men like Death, if Death were ever that graceful. Having finished his dirty work, he wiped his sword on one of his fallen enemies' shirts and slid it back into its sheath and pulled a cross out of his pocket. Clasping it between his hands and closing his eyes, he moved his lips in a silent prayer. The gender confused noble quickly regained his senses from that of sitting there with his mouth gaping open to one of anger. As soon as the Spaniard finished his prayer, the Italian approached him swiftly and kicked him in the shin.

"Ay!" Antonio clutched his shin, hopping around on one foot. "What was that for?" he grabbed the noble's arm.

Blushing bright red, the noble began to protest. "Bastard!" Let go of me! I have to rescue _mia sorella_ from that German pirate bastard!"

Antonio paused. "...your sister isn't a boy too, is she? Mr. No-Name aristocrat."

Said aristocrat's face flushed even further. "No! Feliciana is _not _a boy! And you don't need to know my name!" he continued his failing attempt to free himself of Antonio's bruising grip.

Antonio's face steeled. "Tell me."

He gulped and began to shiver the slightest bit in fear. "It's...it's Lovino. Lovino Romano."

Antonio's demeanor immediately changed, and his smile was sunny once again. "Well, that wasn't so hard now, was it Lovi~?"

Lovino thought he might pop a blood vessel. Or possibly two. "Don't fucking give me pet names!" he squealed as a flaming beam clattered to the earthy ground behind them. Antonio sighed. "Ah...we should get back to the ship before the entire town is in ashes."

He began to drag Lovino down the street, which was quickly changing back from dirt to cobblestone. After a few houses, Antonio noticed Lovino was beginning to drag his feet. He sighed and picked him up to gain speed. Lovino was already too tired to protest. Breaking into a run, Antonio exhaled in relief as the ship came into sight.


End file.
